**********

Part 11: Secrets and Lies

Buffy sat on the front porch swing, her bare feet lifting up and down as she gently pushed herself.  The night was warm and sweet with the smell of blooming flowers and salt water from the ocean.  It was a relaxing scent, one that she would have liked to savor, especially considering that there were quite a few smells that she used to love that now made her sick.  But this one was nice, calming even.

Things that night had basically became one big blur to her.  Everything was happening so fast, and after months that passed so painfully slow, it was extremely disorienting.  One minute, she had been sitting in the Magic Box with Willow, praying that Spike and Giles would find just one little clue to Dylan's whereabouts; the next her daughter was sitting in the living room, laughing with the Scoobies over experiences and misadventures that had occurred during her absence.  Of course, Dylan herself was being pretty tight lipped about what had happened to her, but they were all in too good of a mood to listen anyway.

The slayer had retreated to the front porch whenever she felt it was becoming too much for her.  She hadn't lied to Xander, Dylan being home was a great thing, but she found herself worrying just as much as she had when the child was missing.  Things were different now; her daughter was, just as much as Buffy herself.  She knew what Dylan had done; it had to do something to her and none of it could be good. 

"Buffy?"

The pregnant blonde turned to see Angel standing in the front door.  She could hear Xander's voice floating out into the night air telling the story of how Cash had discovered a nail and a hammer can effectively seal a big sister in her own room.

The older vampire stepped out onto the porch and carefully pulled the door closed behind him.  He sighed at the sight of her.  There had been times when they had been together, especially that wonderful day he had spent with her when he was human, where he had imaged what she would look like carrying a child.  It was more beautiful than anything he could have ever dreamed.  Even if she was carrying…his child, it didn't take away from the beauty of it.

She offered a weak smile; casting her eyes down to the floor in front of her while he came to join her on the swing.  The sweet rocking motion she had set was interrupted when he sat down, causing her bare feet to scrap more sharply against the floor than she liked.  Still, Buffy said nothing, and they soon found the rhythm she had set again.

They stayed that way for a long time, neither one of them saying a word.  Just pushing back and forth silently.

Angel suppressed the urge to frown.  Ten years ago, he would have only had to look at her to know what she was thinking.  Her face had always been an open book to him.  Now, sitting right next to her, he couldn't tell what she thought.  Though, he could guess and would probably be pretty close if he did.

"She seems happy," Buffy mused aloud, allowing a little insight into her train of thought and confirming Angel's suspicions.

"Yeah," he agreed.  "She does."

"That's not good.  Is it?"

Drawing a deep, unneeded breath, the soulful vampire let it out slowly.  "No.  I don't think it is."

The silence returned, making the only sound disturbing the night the chains that held the swing pulling at the wood it held.  If what he had said had affected her, she didn't let it show.  Her gaze was fixed on her rounded stomach as she thought, her hands covering it as if she was afraid someone was going to try and hurt the child inside.

"Angel," she said again, her voice just as soft as before.  "How did you find her?"

Shrugging a little, he said, "Cordy had a vision of a kid at a train station fighting some demons. Me and Wesley went to go check it out and, well, there she was."

"Was there a boy with her?  About ten with brown hair?"

He thought a moment, trying to recall such a person's presence earlier that night.  "I don't think so.  Why?"

"Just curious."

Buffy sighed at that news.  If Sebastian wasn't with Dylan, then that meant Travers had sent her out on her own.  If he had, then he was probably starting to wonder where she was.  That meant, he would be looking for her soon and he would probably come right back to Sunnydale to find her.  More danger, even more reason to be wary. 

Spike would kill her if he knew what she was about to say, but she just wanted them to be safe.  He would understand if she explained, but that would be after the screaming and the fit pitching and the threats of staking and being doused in holy water.  That was to say, if he ever found out that she asked, which was so not happening if she had anything to say about it.

"Can I ask a favor?" She looked up from her swollen belly and to her old love. 

"Sure," he answered, settling himself back into a comfortable position even though he was rather curious about what she wanted.

"Stay."

Okay, he wasn't expecting that.

"Buffy-."

"Not for me," she said, cutting him off before he could continue that line of thought. 

As Cordelia used to say, ego much?  She already had someone, and so did he; the thought of her leaving Spike, while carrying his child, was beyond laughable.  It was like… preposterously absurd.  Oh, Giles would be proud of that one.

"Well, kind of for me, but not what you're thinking."  Buffy sighed as she tried to think of the best way to explain.  "I want you to stay to help protect her, from…you know.  And there are other things going on here that really need our attention, which is why Faith is here, so we could really use your help right now."

"I don't know, Buffy."

"It'll only be until the baby is born, then I can take over again," the blonde quickly added.

"What about Spike?  What'll he say about this?"

"Probably some colorful British words that only he and Giles would understand; then he'll think about, cuss some more, and won't come around until I finally threaten him."

Angel tried not to smile, he really did, but he couldn't help it.

"You know him pretty well, huh?"

"He's not as hard to figure out as you think," she smiled.  "Giles trying to be funny, now that is hard to figure out sometimes.  But Spike, not so much."

The silence returned, but was more comfortable now.  More like it used to be when she was younger and Angel had been the one she turned to.  But it wasn't the same kind of silence they shared then.  Now, she was asking as a friend, nothing more.

"So, you staying?" she asked again. 

The dark-haired vampire sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.  God, Spike was going to go ballistic.  Well, that would be a nice little reward for him for bringing Dylan back.

"Sure.  LA's been dead lately anyway."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a brilliant smile flash across her face before she leaned over and gave him a light, friendly kiss on the cheek. 

When she was young, the gesture of placing her lips against him would have sent chills of excitement through her.  But now, it was almost like kissing…Xander.  Or Giles.  Or even Andrew!  Huh, guess that really meant that she was completely and totally over him.  Not that she didn't think she was in the first place, but she had proof now.

"Thank you," she said, still smiling a bit.  "But you better not tell Spike I asked you to stay or you'll get to see why everyone is afraid of a pregnant, pissed off slayer."

**********

Dylan sat on the back porch, staring up into the nearly pitch black night.  The sun would be up soon, and she had yet to go to bed.  Not that that looked like a possibility anytime soon, considering that her house had been invaded by the gang.  She wasn't used to all these people, not anymore anyway.  After it being just her and Sebastian for so long, all these people just seemed a bit too…overwhelming.

"Hey," a voice said from behind her.

The young girl barely turned in her seat to find her mother standing underneath the back porch light, which seemed to make her glow unnaturally.  Of course, she had been that way since she and the others had snapped out of their trances and welcomed the child home; Buffy even more so thanks to her current condition.

"Hey," the girl answered, watching her mom make her way across the porch and sit down next to her.  Well, it was more like maneuvered her way down next to her, with Dylan's help.

"Had to get out of there, huh?"

The child cut her eyes to the side and shrugged, letting the slayer know she was right.

Buffy sighed slightly, placing her hand on top of her enlarged belly.  "I've been there a couple of times."

Dylan turned to the blonde slayer and grinned, knowing Buffy actually did know what she was talking about.  Her blue eyes then began to travel downward until they came to rest on the large, physical change that had occurred in the older woman since they had last seen one another.

"You didn't look too surprised about this." Buffy patted her stomach to emphasize what she meant.

The child looked back up into her mother's hazel eyes.  "Bastian told me.  He just kind of didn't tell me you were, you know, that big."

She laughed softly. "Because I wasn't.  Your little brother has grown a lot since then."

"Brother?"

"That's what Willow says."

Confusion found its way onto Dylan face as she asked, "Didn't she also say that Cash was going to be a girl?"

Chuckling again, Buffy answered, "That's what Anya rants."

This time, the young girl laughed with her mother.  Apparently, the ex-demon had been dwelling on that much longer than the slayer had thought.  God, poor Xander.  When her giggles began to subside, Dylan's face slowly melted into a more serious, yet worried form. 

"Buffy, do they…know?" she asked carefully.  She caught the look in her mother's eyes from her already resorting back to calling her by her first name, but ignored it.

Slowly, the slayer shook her head. "No.  They don't."

Relief and what almost looked like hope sprang to the child's once serious face as she stiffened a little but went on.  "W-what about Dad?  Did you tell him?"

Buffy reached over, pushed some of the child's hair behind her ears, and smiled a sweet but sad smile.  "No, baby.  I didn't tell him either," she informed her daughter, sounding an awful lot like Joyce Summers at the moment.

Though the child felt like jumping up and down, she instead blinked and heard herself ask, "Why?"

"I don't know," Buffy sighed, but quickly amended.  "I just don't think there is any point in them knowing."  She reached over and pulled the child to her side, letting her curl her blonde head so it rested on her shoulder.  "Listen to me.  That night-."  Dylan began to pull away from her, but the slayer held strong.  "No, listen to me.  That night, you didn't do anything wrong.  That guy was going to kill you, and you just defended yourself."

"How can you say that?!" the little girl demanded, pulling away to look her mother in the face.  "You're a slayer.  You're not supposed to kill humans no matter what!"  Sighing, the girl leaned back against the step.  "Beside, it's not like you know what it's like."

"Actually, I do," her mother corrected. 

That got Dylan's attention, as she turned her wide eyes towards her for an explanation.  Buffy nodded to indicate that she had heard her right.

"It was a long time ago, when you were still a baby.  Your dad had gone off for awhile, and I was staying with some good friends of ours in Spain with you.  Some very nasty men broke into the house, and were trying to hurt us."

"So you killed them?"

"They didn't give me any choice.  It was them or us."  The slayer reached over and gently ran her hand down the back of the girl's head, until finally coming to rest halfway down her back.  "I didn't want to hurt them, but I knew we would be if I didn't stop them.  It was the same with you.  He was going to hurt you.  You know that."

Buffy watched as Dylan drew in a deep breath and held it for a moment, considering what she had said to her.  There was a difference between self defense and murder; she just hoped the child was old enough to understand it.  Even if she did sound like a grownup more often then not, she was still a kid. 

"Buffy," she finally said after several long moments.  Slowly, she turned to face her mother again, but had a small smile on her face this time.  "Thank you."

Bending over, the slayer tenderly kissed the girl on the forehead, and rubbed her back softly.  They were still like that when the backdoor tore open forcefully, bringing both women's attention to it.  Spike stood there, staring at Dylan with wide eyes.  For the love of God, she was not going through that look thing again.

"Daddy!" she chirped happily, jumping up from her seat and literally lunging herself into his arms. 

Buffy couldn't help but smile as she watched the pair.  The way he was clinging onto her made the slayer think back to that time in high school with vampire Willow, and how Giles had literally attached himself to the redhead when he found out she was indeed alive.  Only, Dylan was hugging him back, not standing there awkwardly wondering what-in-the-hell was going on.

After several long seconds, the little blonde girl choked out, "Um, Dad, you might not need to breathe, but I do."

Adhering to his daughter's request, Spike pulled away, but continued to hold her by the arms and knelt before her.  The last time he had done that, he was nearly looking her in the eye at that height.  Now, he had to bend his head back to look up into her eyes.  God, she must have grown a full three inches, if not more, since she was taken.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" he ordered, shaking her a little to emphasize his point.  "Or I'm goin' to rip out your spleen and feed it to that bloody cat!"

Dylan giggled at her father's threat.  It wasn't the first time she had heard it.

"I'm not foolin'," Spike told her, his voice taking on a much more worried, soft tone.  "Do you have any idea how worried your mum was?  Why it was all I could do to keep her from killin' every demon between here and Timbuktu lookin' for you.  Course, I wasn't worried.  Knew you'd take care of yourself 'til we found you and violently and painfully killed that wanker."

She laughed again. "Dad, I do know what that word means, you know."

"Guess I better stop usin' it then, eh?"

"Not if you don't tell Buffy what it is," she whispered with a wicked grin that matched his own a little to well.

Spike returned the smile with a slight shake of his head. 

Yeah, she was definitely his kid.

**********

Sebastian stood at the window, staring out into the dark night.  Things had been quiet for the past several days since Dylan 'left' and he found himself once more in this large house.  He had forgotten exactly how long they had waited there before, but he knew that it wouldn't be that long this time.  He was glad for that.  The boy didn't think he'd be able to take their 'company' for too long. 

Turning his head, Bastian watched the two adults sitting on the furniture in front of the empty fireplace.

Grandfather had nestled himself into the oversized chair, a glass of Scotch in one hand and some dusty old book in the other.  He wasn't reading it; Sebastian could tell by the way the old man kept lifting his eyes towards the middle-aged woman across from him.  Something about her was putting Travers on edge, and, from the kid's experience, that was never a good thing.

Not that he cared for the woman, either.  Everything about her screamed upper-class; the high priced outfit and matching shoes, the way she crossed her ankles instead of her legs, even that Jaclyn Kennedy haircut. But there was more to her than that. 

Diana lifted her dark eyes from the cross stitching she was doing and looked over to the boy in the window.   A small smile barely touched her lips, which sent a shiver down Sebastian's back.  When she looked at you, it was like…like someone seeing right to your very soul.  It was completely unnerving, for anyone.

One of the servants - well, servants really wasn't the word for it.  Followers would fit better – opened the door that lead into the library, allowing the final member inside. 

Sebastian supposed he fancied himself the leader, considering that most people followed his orders or Diana's without question.  Maybe he was.  He told Grandfather what to do, Grandfather told Sebastian, and Sebastian did it…most of the time.  Funny thing was he never ordered Bastian directly.  Perhaps because he knew that he wouldn't follow them, and, truthfully, if they didn't come from Travers, he wouldn't.  The boy had long ago decided that enough people were ordering him around, he surely didn't need anymore.

"Hello, my darling."

Kenneth walked up behind Diana, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and kissed her on the cheek.  She smiled, leaning into the kiss before he pulled away and glanced down at the cross-stitching she had been working on all night. 

"Is that for Philip?"

"Do think he'll like it?" she asked hopefully, holding it up higher so he could have a better look.

Still smiling, he walked around the side of the couch, sat down next to her, and pulled Diana close.  "Of course he will, darling," he assured her with another kiss.  "You're his mother.  He'll love anything you give him."

Sebastian glanced over at Grandfather at the statement, and was surprised to find that the old man was already staring at him.  The Watcher's eyes gave far too much away.  He needed to be more careful when dealing with these two, especially her.

"Well, things went well for me tonight," Kenneth announced happily, turning his attention back to the older gentleman across from him.  "How are things on your end, Travers?"

The old man quickly snapped his attention back to the couple once addressed, leaving Bastian once again to just watch the conversation from his perch by the window.

"Well, as far as I can tell."  Glancing down to his wrist, what could almost pass as relief passed over Grandfather's face as he stood up and gave an apologetic smile two adults.  "In fact, I do believe it is time to see how well things are going.  So, if you'll be so kind as to excuse me."

Not waiting for an answer, the old man quickly made his exit.  Kenneth and Diana watched him leave, before turning their attention towards one another.

"He doesn't like us," she said, going back to her stitching.  "He or…"

Lifting her eyes once again, they came to rest on the still staring Bastian.  Both the child and the woman had even looks on their faces as they did their best to win the battle of wills.  Finally, she dropped her eyes back to her work, letting Bastian have the win. 

"The boy."

Sighing, the middle-aged man pulled his wife a little closer to him, ignoring the fact that they had an audience all together. 

"Don't worry, darling.  They are here to help us and little Philip, remember?  Why, we wouldn't be here had it not been for them."

Diana continued to frown and said, "I still don't like them."  Her hard gaze continued to silently threaten the boy, who had not moved, nor had they bothered to try and hide their personal feelings from him.  "Especially him."

Don't like you either, lady, Sebastian thought. 

A satisfying smirk came to rest on his face when he saw her eyes narrow a little.  God, he was glad Dylan showed him how to play with a psychic before she left.  Apparently, she learned if from her father, who had picked it up after a century with that nutso Drusilla.  Well, anyway, she learned it and he was happy she shared the secret with him because riling Diana was fun.  He'd just have to remember to be careful.  Women like her generally turn out to be a bit crazy too.

Turning his attention back to the window, Sebastian sighed to himself.  Well, nothing left to do now but wait.

**********

Walking into her bedroom, Dylan sighed.  It was almost exactly as she left it, except the clothes she had left scattered on the floor were gone, and her usually messy bed had been made up.  Gram must have cleaned up for her while she was gone.  Everything else, however, remained the same.

Mr. Gordo still stood guard on her bed.  Her old stuffed dog sat in the chair beside the window.  School books that she had hoped would be burned in her absence rested on the corner of her dresser.  And the cutesy posters that Jessie had tacked up in an attempt to make her room look more 'girly' still hung on the walls.  Even her laptop had remained sitting on her nightstand, as if waiting for her to turn it on.

She could hear the adults downstairs talking with one another, mainly about how her dad was able to get there as fast as he did.  He had said something about Giles doing some sort of spell to transport him home, but Dylan really hadn't been listening. Then Anya had started to rave about how much energy that kind of spell takes and how 'if Spike killed Giles before he gave her the numbers to the business connections in New Orleans, she was going to have Faith dust him.'

Dylan was tired, and really just wanted to get some sleep.

Instead, she flopped down on her bed, picked up her laptop, and signed on, all the while yawning.  It took her a few minutes longer to get to the site she wanted, and almost instantly she received a message.

ChessMaster: You're late, Poppet.

Poppet: Sorry.  Took longer than I thought.

ChessMaster: So, everything is going accordingly then?

The child sighed again as she glanced over to a photo that had been sitting behind the laptop.  Her family was smiling back at her at the party they had held after her mother's return.  Even Oz and Van were grinning, which was a strange sight indeed.  Reaching over, she placed the photo face down.  She didn't want them to see.

Poppet: Yeah.  They don't suspect a thing.

ChessMaster: Yeah?

Poppet: Sorry.  I mean, yes, Grandfather.

**********